


Sorry

by JustLyra



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick Marc/Livio one-shot. Posted on Tumblr first as the prompt came from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry

Biting his lip, skin and hair still damp from his shower, Marc walked into the meeting, nervous look on his face, "Hey guys... Sorry..."

"Mistakes happen," Santi shrugged, "Right, let's get started so we can all get an early night. What did the data say about the changes Gerold?"

Listening to his data engineer talking Marc felt his eye drawn across the table, Livio watching him, glare fixed, the slight annoyance showing in the folded arms, but the extent of his bad mood hidden by the unreadable blank face. Even the clipped tone when he asked a question or made a comment, never once taking his eyes off Marc, was so Livio that it was impossible for Marc to tell what the night would bring.

Things had changed between them in Japan. High on victory, champagne and celebrations Marc had let his crush show leaving the older man torn between frantic worry about the unfair shit Marc would face if the press ever found out and being utterly drawn to the dark eyed younger man.

Livio had turned Marc down, politely and gently, but firmly. Livio might like men, he might even like younger men, but he didn't like younger men so drunk than when their teammate and hero went to ask them a question said younger man looked at the Honda shirt, assumed they were a fan and signed it with a marker pen he had in his pocket. Well, he might _like_ that younger man, but he wasn't going to touch him. Not then.

Watching Marc in the meeting Livio's blood bubbled, raging internally at the careless mistake that came at such a cost; the repairs to the bike, the time for the team and the bruises and marks that he knew littered Marc's body from his flying lesson into the gravel trap.

As Santi brought the meeting to a close and Marc thanked everyone, profusely, for their help and apologised once more Livio gathered his things, watching Marc some more, allowing himself an amused smirk at the way Marc's cheeks went pink and he bit his lip when he noticed Livio watching him.

"Livio..." Sounding young and unsure Marc hung about at the end, waiting to speak to Livio alone, butterflies in his stomach making him feel sick.

Livio sighed, knowing he was being mean, but unable to help himself, "What?"

"I really am sorry..."

"Sorry doesn't change the work the team have to do," Livio shrugged, stepping closer to Marc, "Sorry doesn't give me my eardrums back from your mother's shriek..."

"I know..." Marc nodded, Livio inches from him now, his senses filled with Livio's distinctive scent, his every effort needed to stop himself stepping, or twitching, toward the older man.

"Go to bed Marc, it's a long day tomorrow."

"It's early..." Marc bit his lip, taking a breath, feeling brave then looking up at Livio, the stern eyes piercing into him, bubble of bravery bursting.

"Marc..." Livio practically purred, smirking when Marc's eyes fluttered half shut, "Go to bed. Rest for tomorrow. You have a race to win..."

"But..." Faltering as Livio tilted his head, frowning, Marc nodded, "Ok."

"Good night Marc."

"Night..." Walking out, feeling a bit like a naughty schoolboy leaving the Headmaster's office, willing his interested cock to behave, Marc sighed.

*

Even in the midst of celebrating with his mechanics, all of them bouncing up and down in the garage, singing and shouting, Marc could feel Livio's eyes burning into him. High of the euphoria of victory Marc risked a glance, giving his boss his cheekiest smile, not even the fierce glare he received in return dampening his mood.

*

"Marc..." Hovering in the doorway of his office Livio's call was more of a barked order than anything else.

Leathers pulled down to his waist, hair soaked and the sticky mixture of sweat and champagne making his skin feel yucky, Marc wandered over, the confidence of winning giving him the swagger that Livio loved and loathed in equal measures, "Yes?"

"A word," Livio growled, "Now..."

Walking in, Livio slamming the door, Marc let out an "oof" as his back his the wall, Livio in his face the second the kicked door banged shut, " _Livio_..."

"Shut up..." Voice softer, but still gravelly Livio sighed, his body close enough to Marc that the young Spaniard could feel the heat coming from him, but not quite close enough to give Marc the contact his twitchy hips wanted so badly, "You fucked up yesterday..."

Marc nodded, his face flushing as Livio stepped tighter to him, voice squeaky, "Sorry..."

"Sorry....." His lips millimetres from Marc's Livio snorted, "...isn't going to cut it." Moving his head, latching his mouth onto Marc's neck, letting his teeth graze the skin, Livio loved the way Marc wailed; trying to stifle it by biting his lip, hips canting away from the wall, hardness obvious against Livio's stomach. Strumming his tongue across the skin, Marc's hands pawing at his sides, Livio tormented him with the simple, constant, switch between sharp teeth and soothing tongue, before stepping back, quirking an eyebrow and smirking, "Needy....."

Not sure if it was a question or statement Marc tried to straighten himself against the wall, trying t make his brain see that rag doll wasn't the look he was going for, this not how he'd imagined him reacting when he'd thought, and dreamt, about Livio pouncing on him, his eyes rolling as one of Livio's hands thrust down his pants, palming his cock, smirking even wider at the litany of swearing rolling off Marc's tongue.

Pulling his hand away Livio cackled at Marc's desperate reaction; the loud wail, the stumble forward, the cock clearly desperate to burst out of the confines of the layers, and the eyes, Marc's beautiful, wide, storytelling eyes, looking at him, _pleading_ with him, **_begging_** him for more.

Tugging on Marc's arm Livio moved him, the younger lust pliable, growling loud when Marc slumped over the back of the small sofa, willing, wanting; hips thrusting, the friction of cotton glorious against his cock.

" ** _Livio!_** " Marc's voice was cracked and broken as he felt Livio yank his clothing lower, exposing him to the cool air, the breeze of the air conditioning making him shiver, stabilising himself with his hands pressed into the cushions, no shame or manners left, " ** _Please!_** "

The last vestige of his restraint snapping at the sight of Marc, bent over, waiting, Livio couldn't resist letting his hand crack down on Marc's rump, counting to ten at the sight of the pink handprint blooming on the pale skin, untouched by the sun, Marc's gaspy reaction not helping soothe the ache in Livio's balls.

Pulling a tube of lube from his bag, not that he'd ever admit planning this, Livio snapped open the lid, smirking at the shiver through the muscles of Marc's back, letting it pour down his back, chuckling aloud at the hiss at the cold liquid rand down his cleft, over his twitching hole, Livio's fingers pulling his cheeks apart, watching, making Marc's cheeks burn.

Following the trail of lube with his finger Livio bit his lip, trying to maintain the calm sounding exterior that Marc's constant noises were threatening to shatter, circling Marc's hole, then pushing in, slow, but steady until he was crooking it round, Marc's voice turning into a shriek, the little bundle of nerves found, the stars and bliss conflicting with the stretch and burn.

Gasping as another finger pushed into him, Marc tied to steady his breathing, Livio's knuckles bumping over his rim, his cock trapped against the fabric of the sofa, just not quite enough friction to be enough as Livio gave him no time, adding a third finger, the stretch making him swear, sweat trickling down his forehead, Livio's grunting Italian adding _something_ to proceedings that Marc wasn't sure he could ever explain.

Pulling his fingers away, wiping the excess lube on Marc's back, just because he could, Livio cursed in two languages as he lined his cock up against Marc, the hot tightness swallowing him in at the same time as it tried to push him out, Marc's fingers scrabbling at the sofa, his legs trembling, everything about him needing and wanting Livio, that thought making Livio take calming breaths as he bottomed out, being buried in Marc's beautiful body almost enough to make him explode.

Aware he wouldn't last long, and aware that Marc, like them all, could not only take a bit of pain, but liked it, Livio gripped Marc's hips, only giving him a few moments before he pulled out, thrusting back in to the sound of Marc coming apart, each stroke rendering his words and pleas more and more unintelligible until he was just a gurgling mess, whose hair Livio grabbed, making him arch his back, the change of angle allowing Livio to hit his prostrate on every thrust, Marc coming apart inch by inch.

Reaching around Marc, his back pulled up against his  chest, him holding all of his wait, Livio sank his teeth into the golden skin of Marc's neck at the same time as he wrapped a calloused hand around his cock. Marc's orgasm crashing over him in a loud scream, the clenching of his body yanking Livio over the line with him.

Sinking to his knees, gasping for air, Marc looked up at Livio, eyes dark, hair dishevelled, neck littered with marks and skin glistening with sweat, "Sorry....." 


End file.
